When Flowers Die
by Route1984
Summary: Just when everything seemed to be perfect fo, Francis is hospitalized for a severe illness and his friends can do nothing but watch him struggle to overcome it. A story about the impact of illness on life and loved ones, and the uncertainty of the future.
1. Chapter 1

_Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them. _

_-Dion Boucicault_

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><p>"Good morning," she chimed as the door shut behind her, a silent click that hung in the silent room. Her arms were full of brown paper bags, rumpled from being jostled around much too often and torn at the edges, her things from work stuffed in a knapsack that was worn around the seams. There was a thin sweat on her brow though she was smiling as if the effort did not bother her. Her smile no different from yesterday's or any other smile she had ever offered him.<p>

The person in the bed stirred from the covers and sat up upon hearing her voice, wincing when he felt the tug of the needle on his arm as he moved. The room was dim, the light of late morning peeking in from between the cracks in the curtains. The color of the flowers on his bedside seemed to dull as she approached, as if she were bringing with her the very things he missed from the outside world in the tawny gold of her hair and in her smile. But whenever she was around everything else he yearned from the outside, flowers and sunshine and warmth, everything, would fade in comparison and there was only her.

His dear sweet Jeanne. Of course there would be nothing but her.

"Good morning, Jeanne. Let me help you with that, mon cher," Francis offered moving to get up off the stiff bed and the mass of pillows that weighed him down into the sheets. He could feel the creak of his bones and how his muscles strained with the effort of lifting his body as he tried to swing his legs off the side of the bed. _Since when did the floor suddenly get so far?_

"No, you stay put," she laughed as she chastised him gently, swiftly moving to the small table by the window, the clack of her shoes ringing against the empty noise of the air conditioned room. "You are sick, Francis. You don't have to do anything aside from get well. I can manage this much." She dropped the bags onto the table and wiped the sweat off her brow with a lacy handkerchief, a small sigh escaping her delicate lips. "It's so stuffy in here, why didn't the nurses draw the curtains?"

"Jeanne, I may be sick, but I am not an invalid," he attempted at a joke but there was an empty silence that followed as she averted her eyes and a twinge of hurt gracing her features.

"I… I did not mean it that way," she said in a small voice.

_You are worrying her again. _He sighed and drew his feet back into beddings, "I just woke up a while ago, and the nurses didn't want to wake me when they came in to leave my medicine."

Somewhat satisfied with his answer she turned her back to him and walked back towards the windows. Francis slumped back into the bed, sinking into the pile of pillows, and looked fondly at the girl as she pulled open the heavy white curtains letting in the golden sunlight.

"There we go." She turned to him and smiled softly, dispelling whatever other emotion that threatened to brim over the top. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Uh-uh," he shook his head. Some of his hair came loose from where it was tied at the back of his head. The color of his locks were looking less faded than it did the day before and this made Jeanne feel less uneasy.

"Are you up for anything with more flavour today or are fruits just fine?"

"I'll go with the fruit," he smiled back at her.

She rummaged around in the paper bags and pulled out two apples and a sandwich wrapped in thin clear plastic. She arranged everything onto a paper plate and then dug into her belongings and pulled out a small pocket knife. She pulled the chair from the corner of the room towards the bed and sat down, the plate placed delicately on the covers between them.

"So, what book are we onto today, ma chérie?" she asked clicking open the pocket knife and with a deft hand started to peel and cut one of the apples into smaller pieces.

He studied her for a moment, watching how her fingers moved over the fruit and how the light flashed against the blade of her knife and on her hair and on her eyes. As she set down the peels on one side of the plate he took her hand, so small and delicate in his, and kissed the thin silver band on her finger.

"No story books today, Jeanne," he murmured into her palm placing several light pecks on her fingers and wrist breathing in the faint smell of her perfume. _Lilies. _"I want to hear about you. How your work is, how you are feeling today." He smiled keeping her hand close to his lips.

She stared blankly at him for a moment, and then a wave of surprise and a light blush colored her cheeks. Slowly Jeanne clicked her knife closed and put it down on the table beside the bed. She gave him another one of her sunny smiles and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Alright, we'll talk about anything you want to today." Suddenly she picked up a piece of fruit and shoved it into his mouth. She then leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips. "But first you have to eat and take your medicine, mon amour."

He smiled back at her and licked his lips, the fruit bulging in his cheek. He chewed slowly, the crunching of the fruit slowly disappearing and he swallowed, the taste of the apple slightly bland on his dry mouth. "Of course, ma petite," he said when he was finished.

Francis took another piece of fruit and popped it into his mouth. His chewing was weak but at least he was capable of eating something solid again, though he preferred the taste of Jeanne's lips against his to any kind of food any day.

"So tell me, how are your students doing?"

She picked up her sandwich, unwrapped it and bit down with a smile taking her time chewing and swallowing. "They are full of energy as ever, I can barely manage to get them to calm down during break time. Though running around after them all day is fine with me, it gets tiring. Just this morning I had to climb the tree out in the back to get Giselle and Leone to come down." There was a sigh at the end but it was one of fondness rather than of exasperation.

"Ah, but you are always so wonderful with the children and that is why they have so much fun all day," he said raising a hand to stoke her cheek.

Her smile dropped slowly and she grew silent for a moment, just looking down at her plate. Her hand was calm as she placed the sandwich on the plate. Her eyes looked watery against the light and she blinked like she was biting back whatever was threatening to spill out.

"They wanted to see you today, Francis." Her voice was light and he had to strain to hear her. Though he wasn't sure if it was in his mind that he heard her pitch falter at his name.

The corners of his mouth pulled down momentarily. He took another piece of fruit from the plate and put it in his mouth, this time he attempted to chew with more vigor. With his left hand he lifted her face to meet his gaze. "Tell them that I miss them and that I will be back as soon as I can. I am getting better each day, Jeanne," he nearly choked out the words but he pressed on. "Of course I will be able to come back and visit you all soon. Trust me, alright?"

She lifted her head and nodded slowly, as if not thoroughly convinced, but she smiled nonetheless. It didn't matter to her if he could see the start of tears forming at the edges of her eyes.

"Now, finish your food and smile. You still have a long afternoon ahead of you. Tell me again, when did Tonio and Gil say they were visiting next?"

Their conversation went on as it would on any day until the time came Jeanne had to pack up leave for her afternoon classes, leaving him with some books he knew he would keep putting off to read, just so she would offer to read it out to him, and food gifts from their friends he knew he could neither eat nor enjoy.

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><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>

**My first attempt at a long fic in years. **

**This is set in an alternate universe and the idea is just something that wouldn't leave my head for a while.**

**Please tell me if you see some grammar mistakes and typos. Also I know zero French so forgive my horrible use of words.**

**I've been writing this on and off for almost half a year now, I think. I hope I can finish it.**

**Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!**

**Thank you for your time.**


	2. Chapter 2

Francis gently stroked her hair as her head rested on the covers pillowed by her arms. Last night was not as rough as usual and so he managed to fall asleep before the nurses made the first rounds for the evening. That morning he woke up late again to find Jeanne asleep at his bedside, her packages and belongings strewn haphazardly across the small table. He also noticed that the curtains were not drawn. Smiling at the thought of her falling asleep after fussing about waiting for him to wake he took out one of the blankets from the compartment under the bedside table and gently draped it over her shoulders.

As much as he wanted to talk to her he could not bring himself to wake her. By the way her clothes and hair were rumpled he figured she had a rough morning at work so he let her sleep. He gently took her hand in his and softly touched it to his lips, very careful not to disturb her.

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><p><em>He was waiting for her outside the children's center, 4:30 on the dot. He shifted his umbrella to his other hand, touched the small box in his pocket with his freed hand, and walked slowly towards the gate trying to keep his demeanor steady. The rain came pouring down unexpectedly, dotting the sidewalk with puddles and creating a haze in his vision. He was lucky that he had grabbed the worn out umbrella before heading out of the flat. <em>

_Francis stood there just inside the gate, not daring to move any closer to the building, his heart pounding in his chest. He coughed noisily into his fist and wondered if he had forgotten to take his vitamins that morning. He could see her at the door saying goodbye to her students and their parents. _

_The children waved furiously back at her, still squealing with delight and smiling despite how long the day had been. Some of the children ran wildly into the rain sporting only plastic ponchos, their guardians chasing after them with their umbrellas. The scene made him smile remembering the times when his parents used to fetch him from school long ago. A little girl and her mother bundled up in raincoats and umbrellas were approaching him as he stood by the gate. The girl looked up and recognized him immediately. _

_He picked out her name from the back of his memory. She was Giselle, barely seven years old with bright red hair and clear blue eyes. She was one of Jeanne's livelier students, which was saying much since all of Jeanne's students had very reputable energy levels. _

_Giselle gave him a toothy grin and waved. She tugged at her mother's sleeve and pointed to him saying something inaudible in the sound of the rain though from her lips he could only make out the words "teacher's friend". He smiled at them and waved back before they walked passed him, out of the gate and disappeared around the corner the crashing of the rain erasing any mark that they had passed._

_He looked back at Jeanne and found that Giselle and her mother were the last to leave. From the wide glass doors he could see her talking to the receptionist and pick up her coat and umbrella from the stand. She made a little wave to the girl at the desk and pushed the glass doors open. Immediately she saw him from across the garden swaddled up in his rain gear, and waved enthusiastically. He could see her mouth form the shapes of his name followed by a bright smile. She hurried down the steps and sprinted towards him, the rain not bothering her in the slightest. _

_By then a lump had formed in his throat and the pounding in his chest was blocking out the sound of the rain as water crashed down around him. He couldn't stand it any longer and so he ran towards her as well. He caught her in his arms as they collided and pulled her into an embrace, dropping his umbrella in the process. She was still warm from being indoors all afternoon while he was clammy from staying out in the rain. She had also dropped her things and returned his hug, small arms wrapping around him tightly and her gentle laughs hanging in the air._

"_Francis, we'll get sick like this," she said but made no movement to reach for her umbrella or to release him._

_He was the one to break the embrace and he apologized for getting her wet. She just shrugged it off and said it was only water. When she bent down and started to gather her belongings Francis dropped to one knee in front of her and reached for his coat pocket. He took her hand in his, fumbling with the small box in his hand while pulling off her glove. He was breathless and the world was spinning around him, he could have sworn he was acting on auto-pilot then by the way he moved. Jeanne had also been transfixed by the moment, not moving, not saying anything. She just looked at him with an expression of shock parting her soft pink lips._

"_Jeanne Isabelle Romée d'Arc," he started, his voice strained and almost trembling. "Ma petite, for all that you are, and for all that you are not, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He took the small silver band in his palm and slipped it solemnly onto her ring finger a deep red blush creeping up to his ears. _

_He looked up at her to find tears streaming down her already rain-soaked face. She was making an obvious effort to not openly sob, smiling and crying at the same time, her brow knotted with the effort. The mess of damp golden hair framed her flushed cheeks as she tried to wipe away the tear-trails from her face. She knelt down to his level and hugged him tightly. Francis was still speechless at her reaction._

"_I'm so sorry," she spoke, laughter lacing the edges of her voice. She was warm and soft against him._

_His heart sank with what she said. He could not believe how nonchalantly she had voiced her rejection. He felt as if his world was shattering slowly and swirling away. He clung to her, though not as tightly as before, his shoulders tense and shaking slightly. He settled his head onto her shoulder and whispered softly into her ear, "Jeanne, I.. I didn't mean to.. I apologize then..."He tried to ignore the searing pain his chest was making, soon he was sure tears would spill from his eyes as well._

_She released him and pulled away, staring at him with a puzzled look on her face. Then realization dawned on her features and her face was filled with worry._

"_What? No, no, __ma chérie__, that is not what I meant. Please forgive me," she breathed pressing her forehead against his. She brought her hands to his face and stroked his cheeks gently. Her smile was sweet despite the tears that did not stop flowing from her eyes. "My answer is yes. Yes in every aspect of the word. Yes, I would love to be your wife. Oui, I will marry you, mon amour."_

_Francis' face slowly lit up, his eyes welling with water he was certain did not come from the sky as the statement sunk in. He pulled her into another tight embrace and whispered thank you and I love you into her hair again and again. She laughed, hugged him back and told him that she loved him very much._

_He took her face in his trembling hands, looked tenderly into her eyes. His eyes filled with gratitude and love and everything else he wanted to tell her but could not manage to find the words. He was not thinking anymore, not sure of what he was doing as he leaned towards her and gently pressed his lips against hers. She was surprised at his action and it took a moment to register in her head what was happening. He felt her smile against his lips when she kissed him back. Their kiss was light, gentle and sweet, and for as long as they had known each other it was the first real kiss they shared._

_Francis was confined to the hospital barely a week later._

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><p>He picked up the book from his bedside and donning his reading glasses he started reading where he had left off, taking his time on each page, pausing every so often to look back at the girl sleeping at his side, stroking the back of her hand lightly with his thumb as his fingers curled tenderly around hers. Jeanne slept peacefully, never stirring when he adjusted himself in bed or when he gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. It wasn't long before Francis drifted off into his own slumber just as the nurse came in to inform Jeanne that her visiting time was over. The entire time she did not wake and he never let go of her hand.<p>

The nurse smiled at the sight of them and picked up the book that was strewn on the bed, carefully replacing the bookmark where it lay on the open pages. She took the glasses that dangled from Francis' face and replaced them on the table before she went over to Jeanne's side and gently tapped her shoulder.


End file.
